Dream On…
Part Three
By Larilyn
Summary: Past lives, the Wild West and the Summers sisters. Fun stuff for Sam and Dean.
Spoilers: Through season 1 of Supernatural and the entire series of Buffy.
Disclaimer: Don’t own. Never have. Never will.
Warnings: Violence
Dream On… Part Three
“You came,” Deacon said with a smile.
Deacon feigned complete confidence. “I knew you’d come.”
“Of course. Silly to think you would worry.”
“
He was furious. And behind his eyes was something else. Something unnamable. Something frightening.
Her Watcher stalked toward her, “Oh
Deacon had no such difficulty. “She hasn’t done anything wrong.”
As her Watcher changed into a demon in front of her,
Deacon, however, refused to go down without a fight. He drew his Colt and yelled at her, “Elizabeth, run! Get out of here!”
A long, monstrous arm ripped out from her Watcher’s skin.
With lightning fast speed, it slapped Deacon’s Colt away and then slammed
Deacon into the wall.
The demon that was once her Watcher let out an inhuman roar at her lover and then advanced upon him.
“No!” She desperately cried out, “Me. It’s me that you want.”
Her Watcher turned its eyes to her. It cocked its head to
the side and approached her with a sudden softness. “Oh
She tried not to shudder as his demonic hand touched her cheek. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“
And with that, he shoved his fist into her abdomen until it came out the other side.
*****
The scream tore out of Buffy’s throat before she could stop it.
Her heart was racing in her chest so fast and so hard that it was painful.
The pain… she could still feel it.
God. She hurt.
She felt Dawn beside her, rubbing circles on her back. When had Dawn gotten there?
Buffy sat in her bed trying to forget what she had just seen and felt.
Dean. Where was Dean? Had he seen it? Did he know what had just happened to her?
Then he was there, reaching for her. She couldn’t be strong. She couldn’t be Buffy. She needed to know that they were both alive and safe. She just needed to be held.
“I’ve got you,” he murmured into her hair.
Buffy rested her cheek against his chest, letting her tears soak into his T-shirt. She wrapped her arms around him. He was so warm and alive. So familiar and safe.
“God, Dean…”
“I know. I know, baby. I’ve got you. He can’t get you now. I won’t let him hurt you again.”
Buffy let herself be rocked back to sleep by the man that she had loved over a century ago.
*****
Buffy couldn’t move. This, she decided, wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
Pressed up against her back was the warmth of a large bundle
of fur in the shape of a dog. Buffy never thought of herself as a dog person,
or a cat person for that matter. But
Still there were boundaries.
“You aren’t supposed to be in my bed.”
“M’kay,” answered the man who held her.
Buffy was nose to nose with Dean. He had one arm flung over her shoulder and a knee hooked over her legs.
“I wasn’t talking to you, idiot,” she softly chided.
“Mmm’kay,” he rumbled and then drifted back into a deep sleep.
Sometime during the night Buffy had managed to snake one hand up under Dean’s shirt. She caressed the soft skin of his back and answered back with a sleepy smile, “Okay.”
Buffy studied the lines of his face. Strong jaw. Cleft chin. Full, kissable lips. Ridiculously long eyelashes.
“Freckles,” she whispered. “You’re killing me here.”
As if she had touched something scalding, she drew her hand out from under his shirt.
With a smack on the shoulder she demanded, “Dean, get up.”
“Wha…?” Dean’s eyes fluttered open. Then they shut in frustration. “Oh, its you.”
Dean rolled over and left Buffy staring at his back. She used her index finger to poke his shoulder. “We need to get up.”
“Why?”
With two hands Buffy shoved him out of the bed and onto the floor.
Dean landed with a ‘ka-thunk’ and Buffy cringed, feeling just a little guilty. That feeling dissipated when Dean scrambled into a sitting position, looked at her with wide, disbelieving eyes, and bellowed, “You are certifiable! You know that, woman?”
“Dawn…” she tried to explain, but Dean, the loudmouth interrupted her.
“…Is not going to give a rat’s ass that we slept together.”
“We…did…not!”
“Slept, lunatic. We slept. That’s it.”
“I know, I was there,” Buffy swore that she would not, under any circumstances, blush. “What exactly happened last night?”
“For God’s sake, Buffy, we had nightmares, not whiskey.”
“I know that. It’s just…did you have the same nightmare that I did?”
“For your sake, I hope not.” Dean stood and stretched. “I’m taking a shower. Tell Dawn I slept on the floor. Tell her you tied me to the bed and had your wicked way with me. Dawn won’t care.” Just before he shut the bathroom door he added, “And neither will I, you lunatic.”
Then, just to keep him from getting the last word, Buffy shot a retort at the closed bathroom door. “Idiot!”
*****
Buffy couldn’t help but smile at the scene on the couch. Sam and Dawn were both sleeping soundly, but they didn’t exactly look comfortable. Cute, yes. Comfortable, no. Sam had his head on one end of the couch and Dawn’s was on the other. Their legs were entangled and one of Sam’s arms dangled off.
She stopped Fluffy from going over to give each of them a good morning kiss. “Walk time, big guy.”
She snapped on Fluffy’s leash and left her baby sister to sleep.
*****
Dawn and Sam wore identical looks of concern when Buffy walked into the kitchen.
“Buffy?”
“I’m fine, Dawnie.”
“Can I ask what happened?” Sam asked.
“Nothing happened! We just slept. Together. But not together, together. Just the sleeping. Not the together. I mean we were together but…is it hot in here?”
“Buffy, I think Sam was asking about your nightmare.”
“Oh. Well, it was…”
It all came back to her. The pain. The terror.
Buffy sat down at the table. “It was really bad.”
Sam gently asked, “Can you talk about it?”
Buffy nodded. “Um, we were running away together. I mean, Deacon and Elizabeth were running away. Her Watcher…”
She stopped. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t possibly articulate what had happened.
“This is harder than I thought.”
“Just take your time,” Sam coaxed gently.
“Her Watcher caught them together. And he was not happy about it.”
“Understatement of the year,” Dean said as he walked into the room. He was barefoot and pulling on his shirt as he spoke. “The guy was seriously pissed off.”
Buffy averted her eyes from the sight of his body until it
was well and truly covered. She pushed down the feelings that rose up within
her. These were not her emotions that she was feeling. They were
Dean ignored her. “The psycho was in love with
“What did he do?” Sam asked Dean.
“He murdered her. Right in front of me. Him,” Dean corrected with a small shake of his head, “In front of him.”
Dawn let out a quiet, “God.”
“Can we not talk about them like they are us?” Buffy scolded, “Because they are so not us.”
“They’re us, they just aren’t us, us.”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “Idiot.”
He shot back, “Lunatic.”
“Okay,” Sam said loudly. “Can we move on, please?”
“Buffy?” Dawn asked, “How did her Watcher get the jump on them? I mean he was only human, right?”
“That guy was no human,” Dean answered for Buffy. “He must have made a deal with a demon.”
“For what reason?”
Buffy answered Sam, “To kill Deacon.”
“So what do you say we hunt down and kill the bastard?” Dean said with forced enthusiasm.
“It was a hundred and fifty years ago,” Dawn argued.
“Demons are immortal,” Sam reasoned, “He may still be around.”
“Right,” Dean agreed. “And I’d really like to kill him. Can I please kill him?”
Sam sighed, “We have to find him first, Dean.”
“Details, Sammy.”
Dawn took command with gusto. “So, we start with Elizabeth and Deacon, get the 411 on them and maybe from there we can track the demon.”
Buffy stuck out her tongue and pouted, “Research.”
“So far we have Deacon and
During Dawn’s speech Sam looked at Dean with increasing disbelief.
“What?” Dean asked his brother and then explained, “Sisters talk. Brothers beat the crap out of each other. Read the freaking manual willya?”
Dawn smiled but
continued unabated, “I think we should hit the libraries for birth and death
records, newspapers, anything that we can find. Buffy, you and Dean check out
the library on campus. Sam and I will head to
Buffy felt an intense moment of panic at the thought of spending the day alone with Dean. Luckily, there was a ready made protest handy. “Wait a minute…who decided the whole ‘you going with Sam’ part of this? No offence, Sam but I’m not sure I’m comfortable with you and my sister and the all alone together. I mean people being uncomfortable can only lead to badness.”
Dean smiled wolfishly, “You’re afraid to be alone with me.”
Buffy hissed, “I…am…not.”
“Good,” Dawn smiled. “All settled. Let’s go, Sam.” She grabbed Sam’s hand, grabbed her keys and pulled him toward the door. Sam, meanwhile, looked at Buffy and shrugged. At least he had the decency to look apologetic.
Buffy sputtered, “But…um…wait…oh…hell.”
*****
Dean dropped a couple of rather sizable books on the table and asked Buffy, “Are you aware that there’s a ghost in this library?”
“Lame.”
“What’s lame?”
“You. Trying to get out of research by making up a ghost to hunt.”
“Buffy, there’s really a ghost.”
“Whatever, Dr. Venkman.”
He took her hand and dragged her through the stacks while he muttered under his breath, “Goddamned pain in the ass.”
Buffy allowed herself to be pulled behind him and nearly ran into him when he stopped abruptly and pointed, “Now what does that look like to you?”
Floating in front of them was a full-body apparition. The semi-solid young woman was idly browsing through the titles.
“Hunh.”
“That’s all you have to say?”
“What do you want me to say? I see dead people?”
He spun and faced her head on. Buffy knew that he really didn’t consider the ghost a threat or he wouldn’t have turned his back on it, no matter how irritated he was at her. “You are a colossal pain in the ass, you know that?”
“You’ve mentioned it. Repeatedly.”
“You make me nuts. I mean, all I’m trying to do here is save…”
“…the world?” Buffy did a mock yawn. “Been there. Done that.”
“Actually, I was gonna say, ‘you’.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. I’m trying to keep you from getting ripped in half. And hey, if I happen to run across other baddies to take out in the meantime, all’s the better.”
Buffy had a feeling that in his irritation with her, Dean’s internal censor had deactivated and he had said more than he meant to. He also hadn’t noticed that the ghost had drifted away.
“Dean, what exactly makes you think that I’m going to end up
like
In a state of near-fury Dean yanked his shirt up over his head and off.
Buffy immediately began to study her shoes.
“Buffy, look.”
She looked up, hesitantly dragging her gaze up over that masculine line of hair that disappeared into the waist of his jeans. She gulped.
“Look,” he demanded again.
Buffy’s gaze shifted to where he pointed. A massive bruise had blossomed on his shoulder.
She almost reached out to touch it, but pulled back and demanded, “Where did you get that?”
“I got it last night, when
“You got hurt when Deacon…?” Buffy didn’t finish the question.
“Which is fine. I can deal. But if you start manifesting
Buffy didn’t want to talk about it anymore. She whispered to him, “The ghost is gone.”
“Screw the ghost.”
*****
Buffy knew it was best to let a brooding man brood. Dean was pretty good at it too. He drove around aimlessly in his black Impala. Buffy didn’t ask where he was going because he probably didn’t know himself. Something soothing about just driving around, she guessed. And for some unfathomable reason, she felt pretty soothed herself.
“I hope Sam and Dawn had better luck then we did,” he commented, breaking the heavy silence. “Nothing on Deacon or Elizabeth. Nothing. Hell, we didn’t even ID the damned demon.”
“I think calling a demon damned may be redundant.”
Dean shot her a look.
“I guess I can call Giles. Have him airmail some of his books.”
“Who’s Giles?”
“My Watcher.”
Dean gave her another look, one of disbelief this time. “You have one of those things?”
“Giles is not a thing. He’d never, ever hurt me.”
“Sounds like some pretty intense devotion, there.”
“A fatherly devotion, trust me. That particular scenario will not be playing itself out this time around.”
Dean shrugged and placed his attention back on the road. Buffy lazily rested her cheek on the worn leather upholstery and took the opportunity to watch him. The whole thing was weird, how much he looked like the man in her dreams. “Dean?”
“Hmm?”
“Do you think they really looked like us?”
“Dunno. Does it matter?”
“I guess not.” Suddenly Buffy felt pulled out of the warm and safe cocoon of the car. “Stop the car!”
Dean cursed under his breath, but pulled over. “What is it?”
“You want to take out some baddies, hot shot? Here’s your chance.”
*****
“Did you have to bring that thing?” Buffy asked, eyeing Dean’s shotgun.
Dean held the gun close to his chest, “This thing goes everywhere with me.”
The two of them were winding their way on foot through the
back alleys of downtown
“Guns are dangerous.”
Dean shook his head in disbelief. “Buffy, you’re carrying a double-edged battle axe.”
“So?” She smiled at the memory of Dean’s face when she pulled the axe out of her bag.
“So, at least my gun has a safety. I still can’t believe you brought that thing to the library.”
“This thing goes everywhere with me,” she retorted, using his own words against him. “Besides, bullets don’t work on vampires.”
“It’s loaded with rock salt.”
“Okay, even more ineffective.”
“It’ll slow ‘em down, I guarantee it.”
“You really are an idiot.”
“And you really are a lunatic. We’ve established these things already.”
They walked a few more paces before Dean piped up, “How many vampires are we talking about here?”
“No idea.”
“Wait a minute,” Dean stopped and grabbed Buffy by the elbow. “You don’t know?”
“I sensed vampires. Plural. That’s all I can tell you.”
“We’re going in blind? That’s completely irresponsible. Do you have a death wish?”
“If you don’t think you can handle it…”
“You are undoubtedly the single biggest pain in the ass to ever walk the face of the earth! You know that?”
“Let’s fight later and kill vampires now, okay?”
“I don’t see any vampires.”
“That’s because they’re all behind you.”
Dean spun on his heel to face the predators. There were three, all in game face, and they looked hungry.
Buffy handed Dean a stake from her bag. “Want this?”
Dean nodded, “Yes. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Dean cocked his shotgun and fired into the group. Buffy had to admit, the rock salt did slow them down. One went after Buffy and the other two pounced on Dean.
Buffy made quick work of her vampire. She intended to help Dean with his… but he didn’t seem to need her help. She had to admit, he was pretty good. He was also really, really, sexy. “I’m in so much trouble,” she mumbled.
Dean plunged his stake into the heart of one of the vampires but the other came at him with renewed purpose. The vampire snarled at Dean and swiped at him with a knife.
Buffy jumped into the fray, pissed off as hell at that stupid vamp. But Dean had things under control and grabbed the vampire, holding it by the shoulders for Buffy to stake. The vampire made that satisfying noise that they all made when they dusted. Then Dean made a noise that scared the crap out of Buffy.
“OW!”
Dean held his hand over his eyes and chanted, “Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow.”
Buffy was in a state of near-panic. “What is it? What happened?”
“I’ve got dust in my eye! Damn!”
Buffy exhaled with relief, and a little tiny bit of annoyance. “Let me see.” She pulled his hand away from his eyes and tried to hold his face in her hands.
Dean jerked away. “Don’t stick your finger in my eye!”
“I’m not. Hold still and stop blinking.”
“I’m trying to make my eyes water.”
“I could punch you, would that help?”
“Freaking lunatic!”
“You’re being a big baby.”
“Well, it hurts.”
“Well, if you’d let me look…” Buffy placed her hand against his side to balance as she looked up into his eyes. She drew her hand away when she felt something warm and wet. “Dean, you’re bleeding.”
Dean looked down at the blood on his shirt. “Yeah. I was slow. And really, with teeth like that I think the knife was overkill.”
Buffy lifted Dean’s shirt to clinically examine his injured side. “This is kind of deep.”
“I’m fine.”
“You were having a hissy-fit over a little dust in your eye and you had this?”
“The dust hurt…and hey, my eye feels better.” He smiled at her, and she felt compelled to hit him. Or kiss him. She couldn’t decide.
“I think you need stitches.”
“I do not.”
“You do too.”
“Do not.”
“Idiot.”
“Lunatic.”
*****
“You’ve got some decent scar-age here,” Buffy noted as she tended to Dean’s knife wound.
He shrugged, “Hunting’s dangerous.” He swept Buffy’s hair away from her neck, forcing her to suppress a shiver. “You’ve got some pretty good scars, yourself.”
Hurriedly, Buffy placed the last of the butterfly bandages over the cut and stood. The whole thing was way too intimate to be comfortable. She backed up a few paces, putting some much needed distance between herself and Dean. “Okay. You’re good.”
“Told you I didn’t need stitches,” he said with a smirk.
“Whatever. You are great and wise. You can put your shirt back on now.”
“Why, am I making you nervous, Buffy?”
“Pfft. Nervous? Because of your oh-so-manly shirtless-ness? Please.”
Dean’s mouth started to turn up at the corners. Clearly, he could tell exactly how nervous she really was.
“Don’t you dare laugh at me.”
“Check. No laughing.” And of course, the bastard choked back a laugh.
Buffy did what any girl would do at that moment. She started throwing things at him. Band-Aids, rolled gauze, the roll of toilet paper. And the jerk laughed harder!
“You…are…evil.”
Buffy turned on her heel and left him in the bathroom.
*****
“Over your giggles?” She asked rather coldly as Dean strode into the living room.
“Men don’t giggle.” He flopped down onto the couch next to Fluffy and rubbed the dog’s silky ears. “Heard from your sister?”
“Not a word.” Buffy glanced up at the clock. “It’s getting late.”
“Don’t worry. She’s safe with my Boy Scout of a brother.”
“I’m not worried.”
“Liar, liar pants on fire.”
“Did you just say that? Seriously?”
Dean gave Buffy a full-on smile. “You’re better at the quips, I guess.”
“I am the quip queen.” Unable to control it, Buffy let out a massive yawn.
“You’re beat, kiddo.”
“Yeah. Bedtime for Buffy.”
“Good idea.”
Leaving the dog sprawled out on the sofa; Dean followed Buffy down the hall, but didn’t turn into the guest room. Buffy turned and faced him. “And where do you think you’re going?”
He gave her a lop-sided grin, “I’m going to bed.”
“You are not sleeping with me.”
“I did last night,” he reminded her with a honeyed tone.
“A moment of weakness that will not be repeated.”
Dean shrugged, “Okay. Suit yourself.”
Buffy took a few steps toward her room and then stopped again. “And why are you still following me?”
“I’m sleeping on your floor.”
“First: no. And second: why?”
“Someone needs to wake you up, in case…”
“You can’t seriously think that I’m going to get sliced and diced in my sleep.”
“Maybe you won’t. Maybe I bumped my shoulder when you shoved me out of bed this morning. But, I’m just not willing to take the chance.”
“It’s a waste of time to argue with you, isn’t it?”
“Most definitely.”
“Fine. You can sleep in my chair.”
“Chair. Hmm. Could I possibly upgrade to the bed?”
“Not a chance.”
“Worth a try.”
*****
Spent,
When she could find the breath to speak she said, “You sure you aren’t some kind of demon?”
“And what kind of demon would I be, darlin’?”
“The kind that makes me think only of being in your bed.”
“No, sweet
“Except what?”
“Except a succubus is supposed to drain a man, and I’ve never felt so alive.”
“Sweet talk,” she murmured into his chest.
“Marry me.”
“What?” She propped herself up to look into his face. She thought she would see one of his teasing looks, but he was dead serious.
“You heard me, darlin’.”
“We can’t. I can’t. It isn’t done.”
“Don’t panic on me, now. Most women would love to hear a proposal.”
“Well, I ain’t most women!”
“Clearly.”
“I’m the Slayer, Deacon. We don’t marry. We don’t have babies. We…”
Deacon interrupted, “Why not?”
“We…we just don’t.”
“Now here’s what I reckon,” Deacon reasoned, “None of these other Slayers had a partner.”
“No. The Slayer always hunts alone.”
“But I don’t think she should have to. You and me, Elizabeth. If we’re together nothing evil stands a chance.”
“Convince me, Deacon.”
He claimed her lips with his and told her between frantic kisses, “I think I can do that.”
*****
Buffy’s body felt relaxed, almost boneless. She stretched languidly and turned her head sleepily to look at the occupant of her bedside armchair. Deep in sleep, Dean looked content and had a sleepy half smile on his face.
“Smug bastard.”
Through sleep-fogged eyes, Buffy watched Dean sleep. As she watched, his expression changed. He looked less relaxed. In fact, he started to look downright distressed. His forehead crinkled and his mouth took on a hard line.
Something was wrong.
“Dean, wake up.”
Buffy climbed out of her bed and touched him on the arm. Dean tossed his head from side to side and moaned, “No.”
Buffy grabbed both of his arms and gave him a shake. “Dean, its time to wake up.”
He moaned the word no again and a tear escaped from his closed eyes. Buffy found herself crying from sheer panic, “Dean, please! Wake up!”
Over and over she commanded him to wake up.
She must have been yelling because Sam had appeared at her side. Her panic must have been contagious because Sam was yelling at Dean and shaking him too. Fluffy was barking like mad. Then Dawn pushed Buffy aside. She was holding a pitcher of water from their refrigerator which she threw in Dean’s face.
His eyes snapped open.
“Dean?” Sam asked breathlessly.
Dean nodded and said, “Thanks, I needed that.”
Buffy really wanted to throw herself into his arms and kiss him.
So, naturally, she kicked him in the shins.
